


Ouranophobia

by LadyOneiroi



Category: The Outsiders - S. E. Hinton
Genre: Incest, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-25
Updated: 2013-07-25
Packaged: 2017-12-21 07:26:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 580
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/897524
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyOneiroi/pseuds/LadyOneiroi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>((Runner-up of the Outsiderfiction.tumblr.com contest's Best Slash category))<br/>Of course someone's sick.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ouranophobia

You don’t want to let go.

In less than a week you’ve lost too much, and he was almost one of the people who vanished as if they were never there. You don’t want to let him go. So you lay there beside him, listening to his hard breathing, running your hand across his feverish face. Sometimes he’s almost conscious, and you smile and try to act as though nothing is wrong.

He doesn’t call for you, though. He calls for Mom and he calls for Dad and he calls for Darry, but you’re of little importance to him in his daze. You try not to let it get you down, but you’re already so close to rock bottom that his overlooking you is a slap to the face. It’s funny how easily he’s forgotten you these days. You were the one who hounded Dallas for his whereabouts, the one who wrote, you did all these things for him and—

And it’s wrong to think like that. Darrel was just as worried, you know that. It still hurts that you don’t matter. You would do anything for that kid, anything in the world, and it came up to nothing. That’s just how your love is treated. You loved Sandy, and you don’t even know if she’ll ever come back to you. Your love doesn’t matter. Your love is a joke.

You chastise yourself as you smooth Pony’s hair back. People do care about you. Darry cares about you, and you’re sure Pony does too. You tell yourself it isn’t a competition, almost believing yourself. Everything is a competition, and the fact you come last to Pony slams around in your head like stones against glass.

You’re never going to mean as much to him as he means to you. A small, choked laugh drifts from your mouth, filling quiet house like gunshot. Pony moans quietly, but he doesn’t wake up, and you want to kick yourself for disturbing him. He turns his face towards you, and you marvel at how young he looks when he sleeps. If it weren’t for the clamminess of his skin and the thinness of his cheeks, you’d swear it was like the last few days hadn’t touched him. It’s a good lie, and you almost believe yourself. You run your hand across his pale cheeks, and it feels good to touch him again, to feel him beside you. It doesn’t heal the ache in your heart, though, and you shut your eyes to try and focus on something other than what you feel for the boy.

You have to stop.

Pony stirs again and you meet his confused gaze.

"Soda?"

"Yeah?"

"Is someone sick?"

You ponder the full ramifications of your recent thoughts. You decide you are, in fact, a sick man who should not be trusted around his younger brother.

"Yeah, buddy, someone’s sick."

Pony seems satisfied with this answer and settles in again. You sigh quietly. That’s when he surprises you, edging closer to you and burying his hot face into your arm with a pitiful cough. You smile at his tenderness, leaning down to press a kiss to his cheek when he turns his face towards you.

Your lips brush his, and you feel the fire inside of him course through you. Pony is out again, unable to react to the trembling his kiss has instilled in you. You take a shaky breath and try to collect your thoughts.

Yeah, somebody’s sick…

**Author's Note:**

> I don't even ship it, I just needed something to enter. 
> 
> Critique is always welcome, and thank you for reading!


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